


Misinterpretation

by Artemis_Unbound



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mild Lute Theft, Misunderstanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26282980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Unbound/pseuds/Artemis_Unbound
Summary: Geralt gets fed up with Jaskier's dalliances with married people. So he steals Jaskier's lute.Miscommunication and prime Himboism ensue!Rating is for language and brief mentions of sex.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 25
Kudos: 269





	Misinterpretation

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an ask by @dates-with-cas on Tumblr. Just a short little thing, but I had fun writing it! I love our boys being absolute dumbasses.

Geralt was _tired_. He’d slayed a massive nest of drowners and then had to threaten the alderman to get his promised pay—all he wanted from the rest of the night was a hot bath, a warm meal, and a bed.

He had achieved the first two, and was considering making his way up to the third, though Jaskier would undoubtedly tease him for retiring so early.

 _Jaskier didn’t fight any drowners today_ , he told himself, grumpily taking a swig of his ale. All the bard had done was hop about on the outskirts of the lake shouting extremely pointless encouragement, and then play music for an hour to an adoring tavern.

Geralt finished off his ale and looked around—he had learned early on to let Jaskier know when he was leaving a room, lest the bard get himself into a tizzy of worry and start stomping around shouting the Witcher’s name. Nobody wanted that. And since Jaskier was on his break, it was the perfect time to signal him and sneak out before the second set began. It would even cut down considerably on the amount of time Jaskier could spend mocking him.

But instead of catching Jaskier’s eye, he caught sight of his arms. Wrapped thoroughly around a pretty young woman, who was giggling as the bard whispered into her ear. Geralt felt the beginnings of a headache coming on behind his eyes.

After another moment, Jaskier pulled away, and Geralt felt safe enough to focus on his words, easily distinguishable even across the crowded tavern.

“Excuse me for a moment, my dear, I must freshen up before I go on again.”

Jaskier-speak for ‘I need a piss.’

As he walked away, the girl gave a very familiar nervous glance around the room. Geralt’s headache pulsed harder.

Jaskier disappeared to the privy, and Geralt made the split-second decision that he wasn’t going to deal with this tonight.

He pushed away from his table and made his way up to the bar.

By the time Jaskier returned, the girl was gone and Geralt was already walking down the road toward the inn. Jaskier caught up with him in the street.

“Geralt!”

Geralt hummed noncommittally.

“Geralt, what the hell happened back there? I went for a leak, and when I came back the bartender said you had my lute. Give it back, I’m due to start again soon.”

“No you’re not.”

“What?” Jaskier laughed a little, reaching for his lute. “Geralt, give me—“

Geralt dodged him. “No. I told the owner you weren’t feeling well, couldn’t finish your performance.”

“ _What_?” Jaskier repeated, voice now tinged with anger. “I didn’t ask you to do that! Why the fuck would you—“

“She was married.”

“Wha—“

“The girl you were planning to take to bed. She was married and I didn’t feel like being dragged out of bed at two in the fucking morning to save your arse again because you can’t keep in your fucking pants,” Geralt growled.

Jaskier was opening and closing his mouth, wordless noises of fury escaping. He ducked in front of Geralt and put his hands on his hips, glaring. “Who I fuck is my business, Geralt—“

Geralt gave a harsh laugh. “Not when you’re constantly asking me to protect you from the consequences. Here.” He shoved the lute back into Jaskier’s arms and pushed past him. “Do what you want, bard, but don’t come to me for help anymore. I’m done.”

Suddenly, the air was thick with the smell of panic—of fear. Geralt tensed, hand flying to his sword hilt. Jaskier never smelt of fear around him, not unless there was a monster very nearby.

“Geralt?” Jaskier’s voice was uncharacteristically small.

Geralt turned and found the bard standing frozen, arms wrapped around his lute, eyes wide.

“That’s it?” Jaskier asked in a half-whisper. The fear was turning to the salt-tinged scent of pain. “After...after all this time, that’s how it ends?”

Geralt blinked. What was the bard talking about?

“I mean,” Jaskier gave a forced laugh. “I always knew you’d get tired of me eventually, but I guess I hoped there would be a little more of a goodbye.”

“What are you talking about?” Geralt demanded.

“Oh, don’t _do_ that!” Jaskier cried, stamping his foot a little. The smoky anger smell was mixing with the salt. “Don’t pin it all on me to the do the hard work! For years, you’ve given me the stoic, _Witchers-don’t-have-feelings-Jaskier_ bullshit, and I’ve loved you enough to go along with it, to keep my feelings to myself. But you just said you were done with me, so for once—“

Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose, temples throbbing. “Jaskier, I just meant I’m not going to put up with your fucking married women anymore. I’m not going to abandon you in this backwater shithole to fend for yourself.”

“...oh.” Jaskier bit his lip, taking a tentative step closer to Geralt. His eyes were wide and hopeful and Geralt had to look away. That shade of blue was almost painful to look at. “Then...I can...come with you?”

“Of course,” Geralt said with a roll of his eyes. And then he froze. “Wait. What did you say?”

Jaskier went red, fidgeting. His gaze dropped to the floor. “Nothing?” he tried weakly.

Geralt took a step toward him, until they were nearly toe to toe. “No. You said something. Something about me...and you.”

Jaskier swallowed. “Yes, all right,” he grumbled petulantly, staring fixedly at Geralt’s medallion. “I said I love you, okay? You don’t need to make a big deal about it, I’ve been doing a pretty good job not bothering you with it, haven’t I? We can just forget—“

Geralt wrapped a hand around the back of Jaskier’s neck, pulled him in, and kissed him. It was the most effective method of shutting the bard up he’d ever tried.

When he pulled away, Jaskier tried to chase his lips with a small noise of protest.

“Then why the fuck have you been fucking so many married women?” Geralt muttered against his lips. “Could have saved us both a lot of trouble and me a lot of coin at the brothel.”

Jaskier pouted petulantly, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s neck and playing with his hair. “Well, I didn’t expect you to _reciprocate_!” he huffed.

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Idiot,” he grunted.

Jaskier hummed. “Maybe, but you’re kissing me, so what does that say about you?”

Geralt just chuckled and kissed his idiot again.

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out with me on Tumblr @artemisthehuntress!


End file.
